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My Dad, 47, was killed by a careless driver in May 2013. He had over 30 years of experience when it comes to riding motorcycles, so I truly believe that if there was any way possible he could have survived that fatal collision, he would have. He was killed instantly when a car pulled out of a junction and didn't see him coming past. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, the weather was perfect. Sundays are unbearable to me now. I respected my Dad so much, everything he did made me respect him and want to be more like him. He was everything a girl could possibly want in a father. I wasn't a typical 'daddy's girl', we had a very different bond to that of the usual father-daughter relationship. We didn't cuddle or tell each other we loved one another, probably since I was about 11/12 years old. We argued and debated, that was our thing. Even when I moved away to university I'd go home to have a good argument, because no-one else argued like we did. He taught me to have thick skin and not be hurt by what people say. Sounds strange. He was the first person I called when I was in trouble or stuck somehow, he'd always have a way to fix things. He wasn't one for giving advice, more like letting us make our mistakes and then explaining after how we could have done it better. My Dad was always made me laugh, even when the jokes were terrible. When I was a teenager we drifted apart but over the last two or three years we'd started to get closer and our relationship was better than ever. He taught me to empathize rather than sympathize, and not to judge people, especially if you don't know their circumstances. He was my reference point for everything, he provided me with the feeling of something stable and constant throughout my life. So when he was killed, I completely went into shock. I still can't believe its happened and I'm rarely able to express my emotions to my family. I feel unable to cry for my Dad and when I do it feels forced. It makes me more unhappy that I can't grieve for my Dad in a way that he deserves. I just feel like I have a total block on being able to be sad. When I do feel upset I feel bad about it because there are so many people in the world who are worse off. I have awful nightmares that I'm crying uncontrollably, but when I wake up the tears aren't real and I just feel very empty. I'm 20 now, and in my second year of university. I feel like I have no guidance, after the breakdown of my relationship with my mother (see other posts) and that I'm stuck at a point in my life with no idea what to do next.

I cannot believe its already the 13th of December. In a little over a month, it will be three years since my mom passed away. I STILL cannot believe it. I mean I can, but it brings me so much sadness and grief when I think about her. It is almost as though I have to find the hidden corners of my memory to remember her in health, where as in reality all my life that I spent with her, was when she was healthy. Why does this happen? I am not sure. But recovery is not something that happens over a year, ha! its close to almost 3 and I still am not even halfway. I lost my mother to ovarian cancer in 2012. The world did not end, but for me, a huge part of what I knew and understood about the world and life did end. The source of love, not just any love, but UNCONDITIONAL love was gone. To think that I will never see her again hurts me so much. I cannot fathom that concept. I am not sure how i go about life everyday and how I have done that since the last three years. All I know is, my mom would not want me to feel this way, but it really so damn hard to be happy when she is not around. My mother, sister and I have been through so much in life. The loss of my father, very suddenly, in 2001 being one of them. I was 14. very young, understood death enough to know that he would not come back, but definitely was not mature enough to process it well. I was so young and so was my sister, ( oh my god, i still remember the horror of hearing about death of my father, some parts of it very vivid ( almost as though i had an outer body experience of watching myself cry with eyelids swollen to extreme, waking up at night) and others very blurry ( apparently I tried to jump off my terrace ( or so I have been told by a family friend who I met couple of months after mom had passed) but all I remember is a bunch of women surrounding me telling me " what is wrong with you? think about your mother". ) As I am writing this, I can feel a huge lump in my throat and im crying profusely. I was not able to think- to be honest- i do not even know how i managed it all. But now after having lost my mother, and married to my wonderful amazing husband, I cannot fathom how she managed it. "those women" surrounding me were right- THINK ABOUT YOUR MOTHER. I will just have to forgive myself because I was really young, and distraught and I eat all my sadness, to the point that its manifested in many ways- PCOS, im sure if I see a shrink they will diagnose me with depression ( i refuse to give into any labels that defines me sick because I see it as a process of healing, and it takes time) I most definitely have PTSD ( I am still trying to cope with it- I will talk about what I am finally doing to take care of myself- later) and it has affected my emotional wellbeing, and even my skin now. ( i am breaking out in rashes/ eczema/ psoriasis like) that the doctors just cannot figure out what its about after draining a gallon of blood and numerous allergy tests). I lost both my parents when they were away from me. I did not get a chance to see them. the horror and pain that brings me is out of control. There are days when I can cope with it, and other days I am spiraling in sadness and as soon as i hit the very bottom- somehow I can rise up. I feel so guilty about some of things i said to my mother when she was sick, pushing her to eat when she didnt want to, being frustrated because I couldnt help her. and acting out because of it. It is so absolutely hard to think about those times and not see how I could have been a better person, more understanding, more loving, more supportive but now that it is all gone, I do not know how to forgive myself anymore. I know for a fact that my mom wouldn't want me to feel this way but then, I cannot hear her say it so how do i know for sure? I just celebrated by 27th birthday last month and i was so sad because ma would call me to say happy birthday. Its been 3 birthdays and she hasnt, and she won't. its funny to also think how selfishly we celebrate our birthday as though it is something that only belongs to us! shouldnt it actually be my mothers day? she birthed me. when my friend talked about how birthdays can be so selfish, i realised how for most of my life, it was about me, but now it is all about her. Ma, i miss you so much. She wanted to see me graduate from school and next week I am graduating but shes not going to be there. I got married two months ago, and I took my mom and my dad's photo to the city clerks office because i couldnt believe that they wouldnt be there. and upon asking my husband to take a picture of me, my sister who was present, with our parent's photo- both of us starting crying. It is still so hard. I do not even talk about it with my friends or people I know. I can only talk about death with people that have a real understanding of it. Or it feels like I am talking to a wall. who looks back at me, but does not see me. or how I feel. Some people say that a sudden death is worse than an anticipated death. hahaha! what a strange thing to say. I have been on both side and neither of them is easy. at all. neither! infact waiting for my mom to (not) die was one of the hardest things i have been through in my life. I can actually say this with certainty as of now- the hardest thing that i have been through. But that opened up the concept of what losing your spouse or your child would mean. I want to take this chance ( if anyone will ever read this) to say that if you have lost your child, I AM SO SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS. i cannot imagine how hard that must be. To me that is the greatest pain a person can go through. Losing your spouse/lover is probably the other hardest. Now I am talking like everyone who tries to create a hierarchy for loss. I do not mean to. I will keep writing, I guess, but I really just want to help everyone that is dealing with loss too- i feel like if i can be of any help or insight to anyone- it will help me out in the process. I hope that everyone who is going through loss has faith and patience. Only time and you yourself can heal it. And you ought to love yourself enough to heal yourself. Life is too short and its not a cliche. It is the truth. Couple of things I have been doing lately to heal myself ( mostly because now that my skin is physically reminding me of my inner state) is - Pranayama ( breathing exercise) 30 mins a day. I split it into two or three parts so its easier to do so. I do anulom bilom/ bhrastika/ shitali/ and kapalbhati - I am drinking a lot of juices/ fruits and vegetables and taking herbs ( tulsi/ and different ayurvedic herbs for liver and blood cleanse, like tumeric/ ginger and garlic) ayurvedic herbs are really good as supplement to get rid of toxins in your body. Stress and energy blockages can create toxins too, so this should be taken if you know adequate information about it, and also if you are not allergic. I have begun doing this since three weeks- i will keep posting more when i learn more. - I am doing 20 minute workout just to keep myself physically fit. - drinking green tea/ tulsi tea. Herbal tea and cut out coffee/ alcohol and taking a break from smoking. - meditating. For those who have the means to travel- i suggest go to asia/ nepal or india or around that region.Or travel the world. meeting people from all walks of life teaches one a lot! I am from Nepal. We deal with death very differently back home- its all in the open. nothing is hidden and death is not a taboo. much love.

In May 2013 my father was killed in a road traffic accident while out on his motorbike, aged 47. He left a wife, my sister, my brother and I. We had to deal with a criminal court case against the woman that killed him. I have no anger towards the woman (yet). In fact I don't really feel anything unless I'm asleep and then I feel like I'm crying hysterically in my dreams/nightmares, when I wake up I just feel empty. As well as the trauma of my father being killed only 6 weeks after, my nana also passed away in June 2013 leaving me without any grandparents. So after two funerals in less than two months, both were people I was very close to, I have been left with this empty feeling. This was intensified when my mother found a new partner in November 2013, basically leaving my and my siblings to accept it or not have her in our lives. As we didn't approve for various reasons (he was 14 years younger than her with a criminal record) I hardly speak to my mother anymore and when I do there is a lot of tension, anger and hurt. So now there is my sister (24), my brother (17) and I (20), we have pretty much no extended family apart from one cousin and auntie who we aren't very close to. I struggled with anxiety initially. I'm finding it very difficult to cope with the stress and demands of my university course as I can't seem to get motivated or concentrate for long enough to keep up with my work. We still haven't decided on a headstone and have the civil case to go through, as well as sorting through my nana's house. All of which will be especially difficult with whats left of my very deteriorated relationship with my mother. I have been left feeling very alone and very empty, and just wondering when this shedload of hurt is going to come crashing down on me when the numbness wears off.

I lost my dad 4 months ago. He died so suddenly and in front of me in the hospital. He had pancreatic cancer but he died from a pulmonary infection. He just stopped breathing. It was completely unexpected. In the last few weeks, like a delayed reaction, I started to get stressed and I lost my appetite. I'm sleeping all the time. I shake and feel jittery all the time. I also feel anxious.I want to function again, but I feel like a shell of myself. Throwing out the trash is now a major task for me. My heart is racing all the time. Is there any strategy to cope and become whole again? I want to be my old self again.

Hello everyone, Just found this website today and I love it so far! So I wanna give you guys some background on my story and I obviously came here for advice and help others with my situation too. Let me just say this, My dad was my bestfriend, a great father who taught me so much we had a incredible bond that no one could break, we had a good trusting relationship. I learned to be honest with him all the time, which was helpful especially when your a teenager growing up wanting to do teenage things haha.. I could tell him everything and he would help me out in some way, never got mad just said take it as a learning lesson. He pushed me to thrive in school and pursue an education. Okay, My dad was amazing hard-working man, My mom and him got divorced when I was 12ish but rekindled a friendship 6 years later, which was wonderful. My dad was diagnosed with cancer sometime back in early 2012. The type of cancer was aggressive and stage 4 from an unknown origin but started in his lymph nodes in his neck. Well anyways He started chemo and radiation very soon. Long story short, july 1 2013 he was admitted to the hospital due to complications from chemo and stuff by this time he had already done so much chemo, radiation and two surgeries. Well anyways he stayed in the hospital until the day he died. For awhile in the beginning he was getting more strength but, went down hill quickly due to the cancer spreading in his lungs, ribs, back and neck again. He losted his strength. Well the day before he died they called us around 2 and said he wasn't doing well and his breathing rate had slowed down, so my mother and I rushed there to meet my uncle and aunt, well he was talking before then and then they put him on this machine he was on a mechanical ventilator and it was breathing for him basically. It was all very hard to watch but I wasn't upset at the time because I was just trying to enjoy the time we had. On the day before his death, I walked in the room after being in the hospital all day long and was saying my goodbyes to him, I sat their for 20 mins talking to him. He couldn't respond because of the machine but he held my hand tightly. I told him he could go if he needed to, that he was in too much pain. (We are all christians so I'm sorry if I offend anyone, but I am going to bring this up.) I read out Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 because that was his favorite. He mumbled it back to me and I just knew in my heart that was the last time I would see my dad alive. (We always had like telepathy type experiences together, like he knew when I was in trouble without even knowing for sure or I would do the same.) The very next day he passed, it took me atleast a week to comprehend that he wasn't here anymore. I had saved voicemails from him that I keep resaving even though they are now on my computer. I am thankful to have those because I know not everyone gets that chance and it's about 22 voicemails haha. Anyways after I finally realized he was gone I still felt in shock like maybe he was at the hospital and we just hadn't talked or he was going to call me soon. It was extremely hard for me to deal with that. I was extremely close to my dad. He understood me and made me the person I am today. Don't get me wrong I love my mom but she's more nurturing. So it's been almost two months and I am still struggling and I've already lost my grandpa September 6,2011 (two days before my bday) then my Stepdad to cirrhosis of the liver on August 28,2012 then my dad September 29, 2013. All very close to my birthday which is September 8th. But my dad's death was so different and the emotions I feel are stronger and I was close to all three people but I guess it's just the daddy daughter relationship, it's different. So since he's passed I've had bad days, easy days but every single day I think of him, every single day.. And I've had horrible feedback from people who think they know it all, I'm sure we have all experience it. People will say, "Time heals all wounds." "He's no longer suffering now." It's like okay I understand that but, we are selfish down here and can't help but miss that person and the timing thing is crap to me. I feel like it's gotten hard with time not easier. I feel like I'm going to be this way for the rest of my life and I hate it. I would give anything to have him back. It's just hard dealing with this pain, because I'm on 21 years old and I am at the time in my life where I am growing into an adult and making future choices and he would always guide me with it. I hate doing certain things that we did together now, like he loved computer he was so smart with them, I mean extremely smart and now I don't have someone to share all the cool new technology stuff with and it feels weird. I can't even part with his stuff year, his cellphone is still on and I don't have the strength yet to turn it off. It hurts me so much knowing my dad won't be there when I have children, get married or graduate college. It saddens me but the most amazing thing that my dad in advance was he insisted my boyfriend come see him in the hospital in the beginning of him being there and they never told me what they talked about. Well finally my boyfriend his name is chris by the way told me what my dad said that day.. I'll summarize it. "Please do me a favor, Chris.. Look after Darcy and her mother because I know I'm dying and I won't be here to keep them bother protected or help them when they need a man to help with something.. Please especially take care of my little girl, she's my world and If she's happy, I'm happy.. I hope you two will get married one day because you make my daughter so happy.. But if you don't please just check in on them for me atleast because that would me happy.." My dad said all this 3 months before he passed and before he got real bad.. It's like my dad knew Chris wouldn't say that to me until things settled after his death and he was so right. One last thing to add is one of my dearest friends to me started drifting when my dad got worse, she had just entered a relationship with this guy and was spending all her free time with him. Well the day he died she didn't even show up to see me or nothing, and I had another friend who was there for me the whole time and working full time and going to to school full time and I saw her basically the whole week after my dad passed. Well anyways back to the distant friend.. she kept saying she was so busy and I mean I understand but she didn't really try. She didn't attend the memorial and the reception because of work... it just didn't make sense ot me. Basically she was attached to her boyfriends hip.. but anyways I tried to set up a day to sit down and talk with her about my how I felt and she didn't want too. She said she felt guilty and didn't think we needed to talk about it because it wouldn't resolve anything, which is so not true. Well now we aren't as close at all and it sucks and I don't know what to do or what to say to her. I want to tell her how I feel but she doesn't want to sit down so I might do it over the phone. In the beginning I couldn't tell her how I felt because I wanted to chew her out (anger from my dads death) Thanks for listening and please leave a comment. I love feedback (I uplodead a picture of my dad and I)

Hi, everyone. My name is Lindsay. I'm new here. I guess I'm not really sure how to address this topic... I lost my father to a long battle with cancer when I was ten years old. I'm now 19, so it will be ten years in July. My mother recently gave me a box full of pictures that my father kept over his lifetime. It's taken me a couple weeks to get through, but it's taken me on this emotional roller coaster. My father was a great man who saw many great things in his life and while going through all of his pictures, I can't stop crying. Seeing all these pictures has left me with this feeling of.....unimportance, I guess you could say. He met so many people, went so many places, I feel as though I was a very small and insignificant part of his otherwise grand life. I have this feeling of jealousy. I'm seeing all these unfamiliar faces next to him in pictures and I'm jealous that they had the chance to know him better than I ever will..... I catch myself daydreaming, thinking about all the decisions I've made up until now and if he would be proud of any of them or just shake his head in disapproval. He was my best friend and I wonder if he thought the same of me. I wasn't old enough to know what questions to ask him....How to get to know him better as my father and now I know I'll never get some of those questions answered. I've cried, mourned over his death before, but not like this. I came home today from classes and just broke down in tears. Why now? It's been ten years, why is this just now hitting me? I went looking through that box of pictures to learn more about him....And it's only left me more broken hearted than before.... I appreciate any kind words you can offer me. It means so much. -Lindsay

On the morning of Thursday, November 29th, my dad went to his local emergency room because he had been up all night vomiting with severe stomach pain. If most people heard this, they would think "virus", "flu", or some other simple illness that typically rears it's ugly head around this time of year. But as soon as my sister called to tell me, I knew that it was more. Little did I know how right I would turn out to be. Not long after my dad was admitted, they began an IV of morphine, and yet...that wasn't touching his pain. They soon realized that he had two large kidney stones...7mm and 8mm. They said that they were too large to pass and that they would have to be surgically removed. So until the OR was available, they had him on pain meds. Well, shortly after they left...they came back. They said his bloodwork had returned with an indicating that there was a problem with his pancreas. My mom called to tell me that they were sending him for a contrast CT. We all held our breaths and waited by our phones for the results. This was so out of the norm for my dad. A few hours later, we had an answer. Critical pancreatitis. It seemed simple enough. He was in horrible pain, but they were admitting him. They were going to take care of the kidney stones and put him on strong antibiotics. Thursday night, more news. He also had a gallbladder full of stones, and one large one was blocking the duct leading from his gallbladder to his pancreas. The pancreatitis was worse than they originally thought. They immediately took him to surgery to remove the blockage. By midnight on Thursday, he said he was feeling better and he sent my mom back home to rest. Something was screaming at me, "Tell her not to leave him there!" as soon as she told me she was going home. She got mad at me for "giving her hell". Friday morning, my mom returned to the hospital around 9am to find my dad having trouble breathing. He had gotten worse overnight. His original pain had returned. By lunch time Friday, mom called to tell me that his liver enzymes were off the charts, he was having trouble breathing and they were moving him to ICU. Now, let me explain that when I got this call, I was sitting at Pepboys (where my husband works), waiting on my oil to be changed. I was in the waiting area, my husband was in the shop working, and I remember mom telling me that he was being moved. I looked out the window to my husband and I had the worst feeling in my gut that our lives were about to change forever. I called my husband from my cell, told him what was happening and that I needed to go to my dad (he lives about 2 hours away). I told him to make arrangements to leave work early, that I was going to get our daughter from school early, stopping by home to pick up a few things, and that I'd be back to get him. I left Pepboys around 1:30, returned at 3pm and we were on our way. I got to the hospital around 5pm, and when I called my mom to ask her where I was supposed to go, my dad was in AFIB. I left my husband and the kids in the waiting room and rushed to my dad's room. I knew that this was going to be the worst thing that I had ever seen, so I tried to brace myself. When I got to the waiting room, my mom was there, my older brother (one of them) was sitting beside her, crying. My parents' preacher was there, along with an elder from church. Again, my heart sank even more. My mom told me to prepare myself...that daddy was having trouble breathing, that he had an NG tube in his nose. I walked into his room with a smile on my face. "Hey daddy!"...and I immediately grabbed his hand. He had IV's in both hands. He was struggling to breathe, but trying to act like his usual self. He nodded and said in between breaths "Hey baby". I rubbed his hands...took everything that I was seeing in and said to him "You know dad, if you just wanted a little extra attention, you could have just told me". He smirked, nodded at me and said "I thought I was doing good. I've made it all this way and now everything is going wrong, all at once". My dad was scared. My strong, brave superhero was terrified. He had always been nervous around doctors...and this was his worst nightmare. They were waiting for another dr to come in and start a central line. My mom asked daddy if he cared if my husband came in, and daddy said no, he didn't care. So I went out and got my husband. As soon as I was out of my dad's eye line, I broke down. My mom had to stop me in the hallway of the ICU and calm me down. I held his hand as tight as I could, bracing myself again for what I was about to see. As soon as daddy saw Dayton, he perked up (as much as his tired body could) and said "Hey Dayton!" in between breaths. Dayton tried cracking a few jokes with him...both of them are notorious for joking in inappropriate situations to lighten a mood. I followed suite and told daddy that this was a pretty extreme attempt to get out from under Obama. He appreciated that one. Soon, the dr came in and said they were going to start the central line and we had to leave. I asked the dr (audibly, in front of my dad), "You ARE going to numb all this (motioning to dad's chest and neck area where they were going to put the line in) FIRST, right?"...I wanted dad to hear me clarify that with the dr. Daddy was terrified and it showed. The dr assured me (but mostly daddy), "YES. ALL of it will be numb before I do ANYTHING". The dr must have known what I was trying to do and I was grateful for his cooperation. I squeezed dad's hand and told him that I loved him. We left the hospital that night and came home. I knew this wasn't going to end well. My dad had been in the hospital before...but he had never looked like this. Something was just off, and I knew it in my gut. Saturday morning around 10am, I got a call from my sister with a call immediately after that from my mother. They were putting my dad on a ventilator. He had been struggling so hard to breathe (and it had only gotten worse) that his heart was beginning to give out. They explained to dad that they were going to sedate him and then intubate him. They also assured him that as long as he was on the vent, he would be sedated. I think that eased his mind...but again, he was scared. Again, I called Dayton and told him to come home. I told him that I had to go. About an hour and a half later, the door swings open and there stands Dayton holding bags of snacks for the kids. "Get your things together. I'm taking you to your dad. I'm not letting you do this by yourself, and you need to be there". We did a load of laundry, got the kids fed and down for naps, and were out the door around 3pm. I dropped the kids and hubbs off at my sister's house and went to the hospital. I got there about 5:30pm and went in to see my dad. I followed my mom in and while she went straight to his bedside, I hung out by the door trying to stifle my tears. I was so close to falling apart, but I knew that daddy couldn't hear me be upset. I took a few deep breaths, wiped my face, and went to his other side and picked up his hand. I asked my mom to leave the room so I could talk to him alone. She was mad, and resistant, but she finally stepped outside. I told him how sorry I was that I hadn't talked to him in the last week, that I was sorry I had given him so much trouble as a teenager, that I needed him to be strong and fight, and that my youngest baby still hadn't shared a cup of sweet tea with his papa yet. I reminded him how much we loved him and told him how badly we needed him here. A little while later, I went in with my older sister. She stood on one side, and I stood on the other and we held his hands. I saw her tear up, and right when I thought she was about to lose it, she looked up at me with an angry face and started fussing about how badly he had been taking care of himself. I ended up riding with her to go feed my mom's dogs before we went back to her house that night. We got back in around midnight. Dayton was waiting for me...and with open arms, as he knew I was ready to fall apart. Sunday morning, we woke up and we went back by the hospital so I could see my dad one more time before we left. I went to the waiting room first...my mom was sleeping, so I made the decision to go ahead and see him alone, without her there. I walked in and his nurse was there. She told me that his vitals were great and had been all night (about 10 minutes of hope). She walked out and I had about 5 minutes alone with daddy. As hard as I tried, I couldn't stop the tears. I told him that I needed him to fight, that I was sorry, and how much I loved him. I told him that he couldn't leave me alone with this crazy family of mine, and that I couldn't go on without him. I told him that I wouldn't know how to live in a world without him. Then I told him that I was sorry, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle coming back. Just about the time I finished talking and kissing dad on the shoulder, his doctor came in. He was a very nice, reasonably young guy. He asked me if I was his daughter, and I said that I was. And he laid it on me. He explained that overnight, my dad's kidney function had drastically declined and that they were currently operating at about 17% ....he said they would need to start dialysis asap. I looked him square in the eye and said, "So...his kidneys are failing.". It wasn't really a question, but he held eye contact with me, while his eyes started watering and said, "Yes ma'am. They are". Again, I just knew. I went and woke my mom up, gave her the doctors card and the information. She raced out of the waiting room and I made my way back down to my car, bawling my eyes out as soon as I stepped outside of the hospital. We came home and tried to go on with life as usual. With 3 small kids, that was our only option...and the only option that dad would find acceptable. Over the next few days, we got the news that he went septic, that his lungs were filling with fluid, that the infection in his pancreas was getting worse and not responding to antibiotics, the dialysis wasn't working, and then they decided to open him up to try and get the gallbladder (which was the main source of all the problems). When they opened him, his insides were too inflamed. All they could do was scrape out some of the infection, and they left his incision open to try to relieve some of the pressure. He went through three of the surgeries with no luck. Saturday afternoon (the 8th), I had to slap a smile on my face and throw a party for my daughter's 6th birthday. Dad would have killed me if he woke up to find that I had canceled it. On Friday, they had given my dad less than a 1% chance of surviving through the weekend. He was still sedated and had gone from the original 60% oxygen on the vent to 100%...life support. Monday afternoon, we knew we had to go back. We all knew what was about to happen, but no one wanted to come out and say it. I went to the hospital Monday night and saw my dad. I told him that I had heard on TV over the weekend that Kramer (from Seinfeld) was coming back to TV...and that he absolutely had to stick around for that. Some stupid show that dad would hate was on his TV, so I found The Soup on E! for him and left that on. He always loved that show. I wasn't allowed to stay long. I sat in the waiting room with my mom for a little while. I asked her if he passed away, if she would let me have some of his ashes (dad's wishes were to be cremated) for a memory necklace. I was surprised that she agreed. I also said that I wanted to speak at his service. She replied with, "Cara, you're not going to be able to do that". I told her that I had to at least try and she said, "No. If you break down, I won't be able to handle it and you're just too soft hearted not to have a meltdown in front of all of those people". I insisted, and she humored me by giving in. Tuesday, I went out to my mom's house for her and when we were leaving I got a call from my sister: "Cara, I want you to get in your car and go to the hospital RIGHT. NOW." *Okay* "Cara, do you understand what I'm saying to you?". I knew exactly what she was saying. She was telling me that my dad had minutes to live and I needed to be there. Dayton drove about 80 mph through town to get me there. I raced in and ran past all of my brothers and sisters in the hallway, ran into the waiting room, and waited for my mom. She came and took me to see him, reluctantly. She had my brother walk with us, in case dad coded, my brother could help me out. She told me that they were stopping his blood pressure medicines, as even with two...he was struggling to keep his bottom number in the low 40's. One had already been stopped. They were waiting on her to tell them to stop the second. It would be a matter of hours. I stayed with him as long as she'd let me. I cried. I held his hands. She walked out (without a fuss this time) to let me talk to him. It was a blur and it still is. I told him how much I loved him, and again, how sorry I was. I told him to please not leave me alone, that he was the only one that ever loved me unconditionally. I didn't try to stop the tears this time. Dayton wanted to see him again, but he didn't have the heart. He walked back to the ICU waiting room, but couldn't bring himself to see daddy. We left with the kids and headed home, silently. We all knew what was about to happen. I fell asleep on the way home. We left about 1:30-2pm. Around 3:30 I woke up and texted my sister, "Any updates??". About 2 minutes later, my phone rang. It was my mom. I knew. I held my breath and answered the phone. "Cara? Where are you?....Is Dayton driving? Your daddy passed away at 3:23 very peacefully". She went into details but I looked at Dayton with tears streaming down my face and couldn't bring myself to say anything because I knew I would lose it and I didn't want the kids to see me that way. I tuned back in in time to hear her say "Cara, you have to hold it together. You look at what you've got in the back seat and you hold it together for them. That's what daddy would want". I don't remember getting off the phone. I cried the rest of the way home with Dayton holding my hand the whole way. As soon as we got home, I went to sleep. I couldn't deal. When I used to think of losing my dad, I would lose it. I even had to call him a few times to calm me down. But now he's actually gone, and I feel almost numb about it. Most of the time, it doesn't seem to bother me. Every few days, I'll cry for about 2 minutes...then it's over. What's wrong with me? Am I not accepting it because I never saw him after he died? He was cremated, so there was no seeing a body at the service. I even managed to give the eulogy without crying (though I choked up and had to stop and take a breath three times). What's wrong with me? I feel heartless.

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